


The Catalyst

by days4daisy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s09e09 Holy Terror, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Please see notes for more detail, Season/Series 09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 02:22:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3273233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His brother is kissing Cas. Like, on the mouth. </p><p>"Zeek!" Dean barks, temporarily forgetting the death glare he got from the angel in the car. And, oh yeah, that Cas has no idea Ezekiel is possessing Sam.</p><p>The angel's eyes slant dangerously to the side. Dean stiffens. "Er... Sam!"</p><p>--<br/>Takes place during 9x09: Holy Terror</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Catalyst

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: If you are squicked by any kind of dubcon, this is not your fic.
> 
> 1\. One character is drunk during sex..  
> 2\. One character is, erm, possessed during sex.
> 
> Am I allowed to blame Supernatural for inspiring all of this...?
> 
> If you're still open to reading...enjoy!

Dean expects dropping Ezekiel-wearing-Sam at the bunker to be the most difficult part of the night. Given the angel's quick exit from the bar, he made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with Cas, didn't even want to be in the same building with him. Dean doesn't like it, but at this point what choice does he have? Sam will die if Ezekiel takes off. Or, worse, the angel could flee with Sam still in toe.

Dean is in it deep. And the one ex-angel he could have confided in is the same ex-angel he just told to leave. Again. 

Cas took the dismissal well, if by 'well' one means 'drinking to blackout.' Which, in Cas' newly human state, took an embarrassingly small amount of booze. Good thing Dean got a motel name and address off Cas before he drowned his way into oblivion.

Dean has to drop Cas off at his motel, because he's too wasted to do anything on his own. That means, he has to convince Ezekiel to get in a car with Cas, at least long enough to drop him at the bunker.

Cab's out of the question, the last thing they want is some possessed demon driver getting the location of the bunker off a taxi fare. Dean isn't sure if Ezekiel is strong enough to zap himself and Sam all the way to the bunker. Even if he is, Dean doesn't like the idea. And Ezekiel can't take his hand off the Sam steering-wheel until morning, or Sam will ask why they're dropping Drunk Cas at some possibly-unsafe motel when they have more than enough space for him to sleep it off at the bunker.

Oh yeah, and why not just have Cas stay with them permanently? He can help them with the angel slaughter case. And all their other cases. And learn humanity. Like he should have from the beginning, if it wasn't for Ezekiel and his damn demands. 

Dean is at the end of his rope.

Ezekiel looks a little dodgy when Dean drags Cas' half-conscious ass out of the bar and folds him into the backseat. Maybe he should be wondering why Ezekiel was out in the parking lot for so long on his own. Was he just standing here? Did he talk to anyone?

But Dean is too busy being pissed at himself for not cutting Cas off sooner. He's pissed, too, that he can't just take Cas back to the bunker and load him up with water and Advil. That he has to keep lying to the guy, and lying to Sam and Kevin.

It's for the best, he reminds himself. But is it? Dean usually knows when he's doing the right thing, and this feels shitty as hell.

Amazingly, Ezekiel doesn't put up a fight when Dean explains the plan. He just looks down at beer-coma Cas slumped in the backseat. "Is he ill?" Ezekiel asks.

Dean frowns. As much as Ezekiel ducks Cas and the bad angel mojo following him around, he sure does care about guy.

Dean still doesn't get what Ezekiel did after the attack by that hot reaper chick April. Cas was done for. Nail in the coffin. Ezekiel could have made up any angelic bullshit for why he couldn't bring Cas back. Maybe healing Sam had taken too much out of him, whatever. Dean would have bought it. Or, Ezekiel could have chosen not to show his face at all. Left Sam in the driver's seat to mourn Cas' passing with Dean.

Ezekiel didn't have to pretty Cas up and bring him back. It would have saved Ezekiel a whole hell of a lot of angst, no worries about a living, breathing Castiel bringing the wrath of Heaven down on them.

As shifty as Ezekiel's been, this is why Dean still trusts the guy. Ezekiel isn't just pushing the Cas issue to keep the former-angel-up-their-sleeve out of the way. If that was the endgame, Ezekiel would have let Cas die.

"Nah, he's fine," Dean replies. "He'll sleep it off. Hell of a headache in the morning, but-"

"Should I cure him?"

Dean clears his throat. "Uh, no. He's good. Drunk off his ass, but good." He puts on a smile. "Part of being human, man."

Ezekiel looks through the car window again. Dean can tell the angel doesn't believe him by the way Sam's mouth tightens.

"Look, I'll drop you off," Dean says. "Then, I'll take Cas back to his motel, prop him in bed with some hydration and - hey, I'll even stop and get him something greasy on the way. Maybe his room's got a microwave. If not, hey, cold grease is still good grease."

Ezekiel makes Sam's head tilt. Dean's words stumble. "Greasy food. It helps. With hangovers. Look, never mind. Can we go?"

"I will go with you," Ezekiel says, "to this place of grease. And to the motel."

Dean is taken aback, and a little offended. "Hey, not for nothing but, uh, I can handle getting Cas tucked in safe."

"My brothers and sisters are looking for Castiel," Ezekiel explains. "In this condition, he cannot defend himself. I will provide protection."

Dean sees red.

"Great, Zeek. Nice. You know what would be better? If you protected Cas **at the damn bunker**. You want to know why Cas is down for the count? Because I had to tell him that he can't come with us. He has to be out on his own. Again. Because of you.

"I get it, man. I do. But the second you're worried about the guy, you want to tag along like everything's peachy? Sorry. No dice. You either want nothing to do with him, or man up and take the risk."

It sounds good and threatening to Dean's ears. But, before he knows it, Ezekiel has moved Sam's body to the other side of the car. 

Dean barely gets out, "Hey!" before Ezekiel opens the door and climbs into the backseat. Right next to Cas, who has his head buried against a loose fist on the window.

"Damn it," Dean grumbles. He gets into the driver's seat and slams the door behind him.

What's he supposed to do, kick an Angel of the Lord to the curb?

***

The drive feels like an eternity. Dean shoots wary glares into the rear view mirror. Cas is snoring quietly, his head lolled against the seat. His brother's body is crowded against him, staring at Cas like he is about to shatter into a billion pieces.

Dean knows what that looks like. Snap of the fingers from Lucifer, exploding underwater in a burst of black goo, Not to mention, emptied out of Purgatory souls after playing God. And, oh yeah, getting stabbed by a hot reaper.

He's done watching Cas die. Done watching everyone he cares about die.

"Leave him alone," Dean barks over his shoulder. "He's just drunk."

The car swerves slightly when Ezekiel runs fingers through Cas' hair. Cas turns towards the touch, mumbling under his breath. 

"Zeek, don't make me pull this car over," Dean snaps.

He freezes at the look he gets.

Dean has seen Sam mad. Really mad. But Ezekiel's warning glare is bigger, older. Like a boot hovering over an ant. 

"He's sleeping it off," Dean says carefully. He does his best to soften his voice.

A follow-up glance assures him that Ezekiel bought his mood shift. His focus has returned to Cas.

"Castiel," Ezekiel murmurs, "is a polarizing figure among my kin. He has made many mistakes. Killed thousands of our kind in his own name. Yet, he is always forgiven."

Dean watches the road pensively. The angel isn't saying anything he doesn't already know. Cas has done a lot of dumb shit. He's also done a lot of good, saved him and Sam more times than Dean wants to count.

But, the fact is, Dean only gets it from a human perspective. Cas did a royally stupid thing. Tried to play God, released the Leviathans. Too many people were swallowed up by monsters, chewed up and spit out. Countless lives lost. 

Whatever the number is, Dean knows it can't compare to how many angels Cas roasted in Heaven. Dean still can't wrap his brain around it. Cas killed thousands of angels. **Thousands**. That Cas is the same guy as the one passed out in his backseat. The one with the tolerance of a teenager at his first kegger.

"He, uh, told me it's a punishment resurrection," Dean says. "Worse every time. But he said that while he was kinda...off his rocker? So, who knows, maybe it is God forgiving him or whatever."

Note to self: stick to talking about human stuff. Trying to understand this God crap gives Dean a headache.

"I believe that Castiel is a good and honorable angel," Ezekiel murmurs. Dean glances into the rear view. "Perhaps too trusting. Too...special for his own good."

Dean snorts. "Can you blame the guy? Why him, you know? Why'd they tap him to save me from Hell? Why was he the only one with the balls to go against the Apocalypse? Why does he care so damn much, when the angels just want to kill him and each other?"

He frowns. Everything is true, but it's the first time he's put this into words. "I...guess we've got that in common. Being special sucks."

"There should be forgiveness for those who try," Ezekiel says. "Why continue to live, if we have no chance to redeem ourselves?"

This doesn't sound like a general question. Dean shoots a look to the backseat. 

Ezekiel offers nothing else on this topic. "Are we close to this place of grease?" he asks.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Fast food joint," he corrects. "And yeah. One cheeseburger and fries coming up for Mr. Red Nose here. And, fuck it, one for me too." What he could really use is a bottle of Jack. But, when in doubt, a burger is a good stand-in.

"And one for me," Ezekiel says.

Dean frowns. "Since when do you eat?"

"I would like to try," Ezekiel replies.

Dean grumbles under his breath. If angels want to try human stuff, they should get human money so they can pay for their own human shit.

But, he remembers the death stare he got from Mothra a few minutes ago. Pick his battles, and what not.

Dean relents with a huff. "Yeah, fine. One for you too."

***

Within a second of parking in the motel lot, Dean realizes he isn't sure how this is going to work. Within ten seconds of parking, he realizes he does not need to know. He hears a quiet rustle, like a breeze. Inside a car. Yeah, nothing weird about that.

When he glances into the rear view, the backseat is empty.

Dean climbs out of the car. Ezekiel is already outside, Cas sagging against his side. "Do you have the room number?" Ezekiel asks.

"201," Dean says, then holds up a hand. "No zappin', Zeek. It'll scare the locals."

Possessed Sam gives him a look bordering between hurt and annoyed. Close to the real thing, in that respect. But Ezekiel relents. He just tightens the arm he has around Cas' shoulders and adds a hand to his chest. 

Cas staggers and sways. His forehead wrinkles like he wants to force his eyes open but his eyelids weigh too much. "Y'know, as'n angel I had to drink a liquor store before Ifel'anythi..." The sentence slurs away in a jumble of sounds.

"Sorry, buddy. Your tolerance's gone way down since the varsity years." Dean gives Cas' messy head a scrub.

He yanks his hand back when Ezekiel shoots him a warning look. "Easy, big guy," he mutters. The hell is that about? 

"We should move Castiel inside," Ezekiel says. "As you said...locals could see."

Dean isn't sure he's ready to let the angel's possessive streak off the hook. But Ezekiel is right about not attracting any unwanted attention. "Yeah, okay. This way."

After staying in hundreds of motels, Dean knows how these places work. He could probably find Room 201 with his eyes closed. Practically does, since his eyes keep shifting to Cas leaning heavily on his brother's side. 

Man, it's been years since Dean has seen Cas this hammered. The last time, he was out on a bender, railing against a deadbeat dad who didn't give a shit about the Apocalypse. 

Now, he's on a bender against a best friend who dumped him on his own, with the armies of Heaven out to skin his ass...

Dean unlocks the door and pushes it open, holding it so Ezekiel can get Cas inside. Cas has at least managed to get his eyes open. Sort of. Blue skims between his lashes in thin lines, squinting between Dean and Sam.

"I think I overreached," Cas mumbles.

Dean laughs. As heavy as this night has been, it feels good to laugh. This whole thing is a mess, but it's kind of ridiculous too, isn't it? Just like every crazy thing in their lives. 

"I'll say," Dean replies. He surveys the room. Not much, but it's got the creature comforts. And a microwave. He drops the bags of fast food on a table before peeling back the covers on the bed. "Hey...uh... Sammy, get Cas out of that suit jacket. No sense wrinkling the damn thing."

"Still have th'badge you gave me, Dean."

Dean pauses to smile. "Yeah, Cas," he says. "You do." He still can't believe they're not at the damn bunker. 

He heads into the bathroom to get Cas some water. It's a small distraction from feeling like a piece of shit, anyway. He vaguely hears Cas mumbling to Sam. Something about him seeming taller now that Cas is human.

Dean pulls a glass from the vanity and fills it with water from the sink. He carries it back out, digging into his pocket for the bottle of aspirin he pulled from the car on their way in.

He nearly drops both when he gets back to the main room. His brother is kissing Cas. Like, on the mouth. 

"Zeek!" Dean barks, temporarily forgetting the death glare he got from the angel in the car. And, oh yeah, that Cas has no idea Ezekiel is possessing Sam.

The angel's eyes slant dangerously to the side. Dean stiffens. "Er... Sam!"

"Sam," Cas gasps. He looks overwhelmingly confused. "I don't... I didn't think this was acceptable behavior. Oh." He sways, eyes rolling back. "I over-consumed. Did you over-consume, Sam?"

Dean gapes, while Ezekiel chews on Sam's lip in thought.

"Perhaps," he decides. It's a stupid decision. Sammy would never say 'perhaps.' Cas is going to see straight through this, Cas is going to-

Start laughing. Oh, okay. Cas is going to start laughing. And run his hand up Sam's chest. And slide it into his hair, trying to pull him closer.

"Sam." Cas should **not** be saying Sammy's name like that. "I promise, I will do everything I can to help. I'll stay away, if that's what you need. We will get you well, Sam."

Cas pulls him down into a kiss; a sloppy, terrible, wet, warm, awesome looking kiss. "I promise, Sam," he whispers. "I won't let you down again."

Damn it.

"Sammy. Er...don't you think we should, I don't know, **let Cas sleep it off**?"

Was this Ezekiel's end game the whole time? He has some kind of angel crush on Cas, and he wants to use Sam to get off? Nope, that's not going to fly with Dean. 

"Cas, buddy, let's get you out of this suit so you can get some sleep, all right?" If Ezekiel isn't going to help, Dean will have to do it on his own. No big deal, he'll just sneak in behind them and peel Cas' suit jacket off his shoulders.

That's it. Dean will hang the jacket up for Cas. And totally ignore Cas making out with his brother. Okay. 

Now, Dean can get his belt. He reaches around, unlatches the buckle, and pulls the thin strap of leather through the loops. Good, this is good. Now, Dean just has to unzip and unfasten. No big deal. Cas is just leaning all of his weight back on Dean. And turning to look at him. His mouth is swelled pink from everything Sam has been doing to him. Not-Sam.

Oh god.

"Dean." Cas smiles. It's this sad, weird, hopeful smile. "I've...I never. I was okay, Dean. I've been okay."

"It's cool, Cas," Dean says. Keeping things positive seems like the best thing to do. Good feelings will help Cas relax, and a relaxed Cas is going to conk out any minute. 

"Dean," Cas murmurs. He slides a hand over Dean's neck and cranes his head back further. Their lips brush together. 

Wait. What?

"Cas," Dean stutters.

He should remind Cas that he's drunk. Gently, of course. No hard feelings. Cas is just a little messed up. Everyone's been there. It's fine. Cas is just confused. They don't make out. It's not what they do.

Oh, and Cas doesn't make out with Sam ether. Even if Sam initiates it. ...Not-Sam.

But Cas gets something totally different out of how Dean says his name. His smile hovers over Dean's mouth seconds before he kisses him again. This time, the action is more firm. The fingers pressed on Dean's neck curl hard enough to bite. 

Now is when Dean will shove Cas off. Sorry, Cas. This isn't happening. It's not supposed to happen. Nope. Totally wrong. Dean likes chicks.Cas likes chicks. Sam likes chicks. Done deal.

Any time now. Okay. No, really. Any time.

Damn, Cas knows how to kiss. He combs fingers through the gentle hairs at the base of Dean's scalp. And he traces Dean's lips with his tongue, smiling while he does it, fucking tease. Dean opens his mouth to tell Cas off. Or...maybe so Cas can stroke past his teeth with his tongue. Oh god. Cas rubs more of his weight back on Dean's body. He feels firm and soft in all the right places. 

Then, Dean remembers he's got Cas' pants unbuckled and his hands on the edges of his zipper. Or, that's where his hands are supposed to be. One of them is now under Cas' shirt, flat on his stomach. His other hand is inside Cas' pants, draped over the arousal forming in his boxers.

Shit.

"Cas, you're drunk," Dean tries weakly.

Why the hell is Dean saying anything 'weakly'? He should be pushing Cas off. Cas is his friend. They're buddies, bros, and they don't do **this**.

While Dean is at it, he needs to tell Ezekiel to stop unbuttoning Cas' shirt. Stop loosening his tie and tossing it on the floor. Stop pushing his shirt off his shoulders.

Ezekiel snakes an arm around Cas' body and flattens one of Sam's big hands on his back. When he urges Cas' weight forward, Cas comes way-too-easily. He sways into Sam with a laugh that's too child-like for...whatever this is.

Then, Ezekiel stares right at Dean. His even eyes are matched by a small quirk of his brow. A warning look. A 'back off' look.

What the fuck.

Cas, oblivious, sighs when Sam's mouth covers his. Dean watches the hand on Cas' back continue downward. It slides under his boxers, grabbing his ass with an authority that makes Cas groan and jut his hips forward. 

"Sam," Cas says his brother's name reverently, before Not-Sam kisses him again.

This is so many kinds of fucked up. Cas is drunk. He thinks he's making out with Sam. But it's actually some angel with the hots for him. Sam has no idea he's here. Because, well, he's not. It's just his body, kissing Cas while his big brother watches.

So...why is Dean's biggest problem that 'back off' stare?

Dean rips his suit jacket off, and his shirt and tie, before he can do any thinking with his brain. He pushes his body up against Cas, so close that he can feel Sam's knuckles up on the front of his pants, from where his hand is buried in Cas' boxers. He runs his tongue up the back of Cas' neck and rubs his nose in his hair. Dean kisses through the dark strands, nipping lips on his skin until he's gratified to feel Cas' head dip back with a gasp. Cas reaches back awkwardly and tries to yank on the front of Dean's pants.

One of Sam's pan-sized hands shoves Dean's shoulder suddenly. Dean meets the unnaturally stern eyes of his brother. They flash a heavenly blue.

Dean smirks. "Sharing is caring, Sammy," he murmurs. 

Ezekiel opens Sam's mouth, ready to start a real fight. "Dean." But Cas says his name before anything comes out.

Dean turns his head, and oh... Cas' eyes are all pupil. His normally dry lips are wet from Sam's attention. Cas licks at them, which does nothing to help how tight Dean's slacks are fitting.

"Fuck, Cas," Dean mutters.

He should be saying other stuff. Like, _sorry for being a dick and not letting you stay at the bunker. Sorry for letting this damn angel in my brother. Sorry for not saying you're goddamn gorgeous, don't care if it's blasphemy. Sorry for not doing a better job teaching you to be human. Sorry for letting you get this wasted. Sorry for not stopping this when you're too drunk to know better._

Cas' nose nudges his, and Dean feels his mouth opening, a shuddering breath on Cas' skin. Just the warmth of his face makes Dean's hips twitch impatiently. Cas feels it, because he chuckles. Even wasted, he knows Dean can't say no to him. He's never wanted to say no. Just needed someone to force him to say yes.

That someone is watching them through Sam's eyes, expression softening into something more thoughtful.

"Dean... ah! Sam." Dean tilts his head, to where Ezekiel has his brother's face buried in Cas' neck. He nibbles up a pronounced tendon of Cas' throat, following the ridge up to his jaw. Cas' whole body bridges, arching tighter against Dean's. From this angle, Dean sees just how long and strained Cas' neck gets with Sam's mouth on his skin.

Dean...likes it.

He likes how Sam's face looks in Cas' throat. Likes his little smirk. It's so close to being Sam that Dean almost forgets it's not. 

But, it isn't. Sam is far away from here. If he had any idea what was going on, he'd be...who knows? Crying, screaming, punching the daylights out of both of them? 

Dean climbs out of his suit pants faster than he can ever remember. Ezekiel pushes Cas' boxers down to his feet, freeing his erection.

Shit, Jimmy was hung.

Shit, don't think about Jimmy.

When Cas pushes back on Dean, this time his skin is right on Dean's underwear. A thin layer of fabric is all that separates body from body. Dean's cock strains towards the line of his ass, cotton pressed up into him. Cas breathes this insanely hot moan and draws a strange, husky chuckle from his not-brother. 

Cas wobbles on his feet, eyes rolling momentarily back. "I'll d'mybest," he says. The words come out as a jumble, while Cas claws at the buttons on Sam's shirt. Shit, maybe they shouldn't-

Ezekiel shocks the hell out of Dean when he pushes Cas' hands off of him and makes Sam get on his knees. Sam's eyes are unnaturally still. Dean flashes back to those terrible months when Sam's soul was missing. Totally at peace, but totally not human.

"Brother," Sam breathes. It takes Dean a moment to realize Sam isn't talking to him. Ezekiel is talking to Castiel.

Ezekiel is technically Cas' brother? And he still wants to get down like this?

But then, Sam is **his** brother. Dean's not exactly dragging his feet. ...Not that Sam is here right now. Fuck.

Cas gives no sign of noticing. He just goes rigid when Sam winds his lips around the head of his cock and slowly, teasingly, drags his tongue along the slit. Jesus. Dean's mouth goes dry.

If possible, it goes drier the moment Not-Sam's eyes flick upward, locking with Dean's.

Cas groans and twists his head back. He settles his cheek awkwardly on Dean's shoulder and slumps against his body. His hand buries itself messily in Sam's hair. 

This is too much. Too damn much. Dean shoves his boxers down and spits, quick and easy, in his hand. He starts to rub himself, jerking straight against Cas' ass, hissing every time skin touches skin. 

Cas realizes fast, and he pushes back, way too eager. Only to rock forward unsteadily when Sam gathers more of him into his mouth. Slowly, almost lovingly, Sam embraces his thickness with his tongue.

Freaking porn-obsessed angels, aren't they supposed to be holy? Why are they so good at this stuff?

"WantyouDeanplease," Cas kind of forms out between ragged breaths.

Dean wants to. There's enough moral screwiness happening right now, what's one more thing?

But this one, he can't. This one makes him curse himself before muttering, "Sorry, Cas. No."

Cas shoves himself back so hard that Dean is nearly sent off-balance. His face is hot on Dean's shoulder, his whole body shaking.

Dean realizes...god, this is because he wants it. Drunk or not, Dean told him no, and Cas is about to jump out of his skin.

Grinning, Dean ducks his head to bite Cas' ear. "You want me in you so damn bad, don't you?" he murmurs.

Cas makes this crazy-strained, un-Cas like sound and just nods, and nods, and nods. The one goddamn thing Dean has to take a moral stand on...

Dean jerks himself faster, breathing ragged in Cas' ear. He rubs himself, slick with spit, up the crease of Cas' ass.

"Dean," Cas **whimpers** , holy fuck, "Sam...oh, Sam..."

'Oh Sam' has a full mouth of Cas' dick. Dean gawks over Cas' shoulder. That's his brother, his baby brother, mouth wide and throat tight, worked all the way down on a cock. They lock stares again, Dean and the angel seeing through Sammy's eyes.

Contented by whatever he sees, Ezekiel breaks their gaze. He closes his eyes and starts to move. 

Holy shit, does he know how to move. He slides himself off Cas' dick, cock left rigid and glistening. Cas moans, rewarded by Ezekiel kissing the wet tip of his shaft. Then, the angel drags his tongue across him, circling the ridged head. His mouth stays open, letting Cas and Dean watch exactly what his tongue is doing.

Cas shudders violently against Dean's chest. Dean forgets to breathe, but his hand doesn't forget to move. He fists himself roughly, grunting every time his tip slides up between Cas' ass cheeks. Dean actually feels Cas' body clench against him. He's starting to leak precum on Sam's tongue. Dean can fucking **see** it, because Ezekiel is going trained porn-style on Cas' cock. Ezekiel rubs this new wetness up on Cas, leaving fresh streaks of moisture. Then, he drops his head back down, feeding himself Cas' dick.

"Sam," Cas hisses. His fingers are knotted tight in Sam's hair. His other hand digs into Dean's thigh, sure as hell leaving bruises if not drawing a little blood. Dean doesn't mind. He just keeps on fucking his own hand, wishing it was Cas' ass Nice and slicked up, Dean can only imagine how tight Cas would feel. If he's being this responsive to a blowjob, what would he sound like getting fucked? Or fucked and blown at the same time?

He needs to stop thinking of ways he can ruin his angel...

 **His** angel. Fuck.

A flush of warmth spreads across Cas' cheeks. He cranes his head back towards Dean's, stuttered breaths gasping against his jaw. Dean kisses the bridge of his nose, then the space between his nose and his top lip, then his mouth, swallowing the desperate sounds Cas grunts against him.

Cas pushes himself back, fucking cock tease. Dean's hand is trapped between his body and Cas', his arousal firm on Cas' asshole - cock and hand together. He's got his knuckles rubbing interesting places; soft, delicate skin that makes Cas moan out of the kiss, panting for air.

"Fucking beautiful, Cas," Dean murmurs. It just pops out of him.

"Dean, Sam," Cas hisses in return. "I- I can't- Sam..."

Dean has the best seat in the house. He hooks his chin on Cas' shoulder. Sammy's eyes are closed in concentration, open mouth-fucking Cas. His tongue drags up under his cock, stroking his balls. He goes down faster, harder, deep throating him all the way. 

Is this all Ezekiel? Is some of this Sam? 

"I can't, Dean..."

Dean chuckles roughly against his ear. "Relax, angel."

'Angel' has to be the worst pet name for an ex-angel ever. But Dean can't dwell on his own suckiness, because Cas gives him a momentarily lucid stare. He nods and takes a breath. Relaxing, because Dean told him to. Letting go, because Dean said it would be okay.

Cas goes board-stiff. His hips spasm, and spasm again. And again. Fuck. Each time, he shudders so hard that Dean nearly bites through his own lip trying not to shout. He pumps himself harder, harder, following Cas to orgasm. His cum leaves dripping trails down Cas' ass and thighs.

Trails that, upon wiping his lips, Sam leans down to lick away with affectionate swipes of his tongue. He follows each path between Cas' legs, cleaning him, making a bone-weary Cas shiver blissfully against Dean's chest.

"Dean," Cas forces out. "Sam." He wobbles.

Dean has been wasted enough times to know this voice, and the sway that comes with it. "Bed?" Cas nods, looking sick.

Dean grabs Cas just in time, and Ezekiel joins on his other side, holding his arm. They help him stumble, naked, to the bed, guiding him under the sheets. He collapses into them with a gratified moan. 

Dean looks down at him. On second thought, he brings the waste bin closer to the bed, in case Cas needs it.

Then, Dean realizes he's butt-naked, and he has an Angel of the Lord, wearing his brother's skin, evaluating him thoughtfully.

"Don't objectify me," Dean grumbles. He goes into the bathroom, washes himself, and forces his boxers back on.

Ezekiel stares at Dean when he returns. "What of the grease?" he asks.

Dean glances past him towards the table. Leave it to the angel that doesn't eat to bring up food. "Let's grab ours and go. Heat it up at the bunker, all right?"

Ezekiel makes Sam's head turn slowly, almost machine-like. He glances down at Cas, and his frown deepens.

Dean doesn't disagree with the unspoken sentiment, but this is already messy enough as it is. "He can't wake up with us here," Dean says. "In the morning, he'll be sober, and he'll know you're not you...I mean...you're not Sam..."

Ezekiel nods. "We will not be here when he wakes."

He takes Sam's body to the table, pulls one of the chairs to Cas' bedside, and sits.

Dean frowns. "Zeek. Did you hear what I said?"

"We will not be here when he wakes," Ezekiel repeats. He glances up at Dean, through his brother's eyes. "You have a few hours."

"Uh..." Dean's frown deepens. "I don't do the whole 'angels watching over me' thing."

Ezekiel shrugs. "I will not watch you." He turns his chair a bit more, facing Cas, and folds his hands in his lap.

No. Wrong. Creepy.

"Whatever." Dean goes to the bed, tosses back the covers, and climbs in. "Not like you didn't see everything anyway. Watch away, friggen perv." He closes his eyes, back turned towards Cas and his Not-Brother.

Amazingly, Dean manages to sleep for awhile. 

He wakes to a dull ping and a groan.

Alarmed, Dean snaps to attention and spins to the side. Ezekiel is running a hand over Cas' forehead, and another, over his stomach.

He only glances casually when he realizes Dean is staring at him. "We should leave this place."

Under his healing attention, Cas' furrowed brow evens to calmness. The hand that had been clutching his stomach relaxes.

So, angels **can** cure hangovers.

Dean grunts and pushes himself up. He redresses himself quickly, once perfectly pressed suit now crumpled and sloppy. Ezekiel is waiting for him, grabbing the fast food as soon as Dean is ready to go.

Dean glances at the bed. Cas is sleeping so still, so at ease. Hopefully it carries over to when he wakes up. ...Hopefully he doesn't regret a thing.

Dean opens the door, letting himself and Ezekiel out.

"Not a word," Dean mutters, on their walk back to the car. "About any of that."

"Any of what?" Ezekiel murmurs. Dean glances upward. Sam's eyes, vaguely amused, look back at him.

Dean nods and walks on ahead. "Exactly."

*The End*

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this insanity ^^; This was supposed to be cute, innocent "Dean helps drunk Cas" fic. Then, Gadreel got himself in there, and...yeah. This happened.
> 
> Hope you enjoy your Superbowl Sunday! I'm on [Tumblr](http://daisy4days.tumblr.com) if you want to say hi or talk about other inappropriate SPN scenarios with me.


End file.
